


You'll Find Me In The Shallows

by Big_Boss



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Historical Fantasy, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Mermaids, Mythical Beings & Creatures, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Boss/pseuds/Big_Boss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tachibana Makoto, a son of a local fisherman, almost drowned when a typhoon hit the fishing vessel he was on. He was taken to shore by something he had considered merely fictional all these years; a human with tails of a fish—a <i>ningyo</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

To others, the waves were like melodies of the sea, how they would sing and clamor rigidly like a song on the beach. To Makoto, it was merely a warning that the ocean makes to advise people like him—to warn him of the rage, of the capriciousness, of something so unpredictable and vast.

Vast was an understatement. No one had sailed the entire ocean yet. And he was sure no one would willingly want to. Makoto let out a sigh, causing a misty breath to come out of his mouth.

Makoto.

Tachibana Makoto.

The fisherman’s son who was afraid of the ocean.

It was a name familiar to the people of Iwatobi—a fishing town hiding west beyond ridges of mountains and lush forests, and then descending visibly towards a peaceful secluded coast. Despite coming from a family of fisherfolks, they did not live near the shore. It was due to his fear that lead them to live in a house adjacent to the shrine steps, where Makoto could admire the seascape from afar. He just couldn’t bear to hear the waves at night, so they had to move much farther, and much higher from their original home.

Makoto had woken up too early that day, and despite his growing fear still trekked down from his home toward the place where land met water. And he just stood there for a while. A cold Tuesday in September and the ocean reflected hazily in his fearing green eyes, so he stared back at the cosmic horizon of stale blue. From the far east of the coastline was the main dock, seemingly hidden by a thin layer of mist. Makoto had to squint his eyes to watch the fishermen prepare their nets and fishing vessels for their early morning catch. His feet curled when the cool water that crawled on the sand touched him, making him step back in reflex.

The sun hadn’t risen up yet, so there wasn’t enough warmth to counter the daybreak’s cold fog. He wished he wore a quilted jacket over his short kimono coat before going out. From Makoto’s point of view, the fishing village of Iwatobi came in as some sort of woodblock painting that had been abandoned for years, based on the scenery’s washed-out colors.

“You’re not coming?” Makoto heard someone ask from behind and he turned around.

It pained him that he had to fake a smile towards his own father. Looking down, Makoto muttered a quiet, “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I shouldn’t have asked,” The older Tachibana said. His father beamed at him, regretfully, Makoto noticed. “I know you’re scared, son. But it would be nice to have you around during hauls every now and then.”

“Maybe…” His words trailed off and disappeared into a morning mist. He looked back at the ocean, which was beginning to shine brighter as the minute passed.  “Maybe I’ll go with you one day.”

His father sighed in what seemed like hopeful delight, nodding his head. “That would be great.”

“Yeah,” Makoto said as he watched his father head to the docks. “Have a safe trip.”

Before the sun would even rise, the fisherfolks were already stationed on their boats. They were the ones who could wake up before the sun could, and that was something worth admiring. When dawn breaks, his father would wake up with full energy, despite his exhaustion from the previous day. And Makoto would sometimes envy him, how his father could wake up willingly every day to work.

Because Makoto was the opposite. He despised mornings. He hated having to wake up so early. And unfortunately for him, his younger siblings got the ‘morning person’ genes from their father, and would regularly function as a wakeup call.

An annoying (but loveable) pair of wakeup calls.

When the walking figure of his father disappeared, Makoto headed straight back home, leaving the ocean with its wayward songs on the beach.

“Brother! You’re already awake!”

The shrill voice came from above the shrine’s steps and looked up to see the merry face of Ran, his little sister, while the male twin followed soon after, both running down the steps which left Makoto to brace for impact.

Makoto let Ren latch onto his back when the younger boy spoke a little too loudly, “We didn’t wake you this time!”

Which was obviously a good thing. Getting one’s blankets snatched away from while the futon was being dragged across the room wasn’t Makoto’s ideal morning routine. Or anyone else’s for that matter.

“Ren,” Makoto droned warningly. “Don’t shout, you’ll wake up the neighbors.”

The smaller brother playfully covered his mouth when Makoto set him back on the ground. Ran grabbed his hand and began steering him up the stairs. “Even when we shout, brother still doesn’t wake up.”

Makoto laughed. The two were still in their evening kimonos. He wondered how they could handle the cold morning weather with just that.

“Is mom awake?”

“Yup!” Both twin replied in unison.

The instant Makoto got home, the delicious and salty aroma of fish being grilled filled his nostrils. Breakfast was almost always fish, or some other form of seafood. Squid was also frequent, since his father’s forte was fishing for squid. Makoto would grow tired of it sometimes, and they would instead buy meat from the markets.

Makoto stared at the meal before him, which consisted of sea breams simmered with soy broth and ginger. A bowl of cooked rice was prepared for each sibling by their mother.

With a warm smile, her mother said, “I never thought you could wake up this early, Mako-chan.”

It was such a rare occasion for him to wake up by himself that even his mother was surprised. “I was thinking maybe I can go to town with Ren and Ran before they go to temple school.”

The twins had never looked happier.

The town, was, in a sense, superstitious. Being near the ocean led them to believe that there was some god up in the sky that could control the weather, and they prayed every day for the skies to be clear and for the sea to remain serene.

“Don’t run off too far!” Makoto said with frustration. His siblings ran ahead of him when they arrived in town, stopping in front of shops and stalls every now and then.

It didn’t take long before Ran approached him with eyes brimming with interest. “Brother! Look!” Before he could ask, Ran was already dragging him inside a small shop.

“Ran, what is it? I only brought a few spare of coin…”

“I want this,” Ran said, holding up an intricately woven _temari_ —a handball. “It has a ningyo on it!”

“Ningyo?”

“You know, the woman with the tails of a fish!”

Iwatobi was a stash of supernatural beings. A ningyo was one of them. Makoto had heard from other fishermen that they caught one before. A person with tails of a fish. Makoto shrugged it off. It was too ridiculous.

The hand ball that Ran held was blue and green and orange in color, its threads so vibrant that it seemed like it was dipped thirty times into vivid colored dyes. The patterns formed some image in the center—a woman’s curvaceous body, and a tail as its lower limbs woven with green threads.

“Please, can you buy it for me?” Ran said sweetly. It was convincing enough that Makoto bought it the minute Ran looked at him with eyes similar to a puppy.

“That’s not fair, why’d you bought Ran a toy and nothing for me!” Makoto regretted ever bringing some money. Now he was obliged to buy one for Ren too. It was always like that for the twins.

“Look, Ren, a ningyo!” Ran said, showing her round toy to Ren.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a woman with tails of a fish.” The voice didn’t come from Ran but instead from a fish merchant right next to them. Ran stopped in curiosity. Makoto had to stop, too. The man continued, “The fisherfolks have seen it. They had beautiful long black hair and violet tails—”

Ren gasped. “Just like the fighting fish in the paddies!”

“That’s right, lad! They say eating their flesh and drinking their blood can turn you ageless! You'll stay as a child forever if you ever ate their tails.”

Makoto sighed as the man continued its telltales. He argued, “My father’s a fisherman for more than twenty years. He had never seen one in his life."

“Because they only let themselves be seen by the young sailors and fishermen, and they would sing to them, _enchanting_ them, and afterwards dragging their spellbound bodies down to the depths of the sea, not knowing that us humans drown.”

There was this chill in his spine that made Makoto shudder. The imagery that surged through his brain almost made him panic. Being dragged to the blue ocean floor wasn’t a very pleasant thought. Makoto looked at the fish vendor one last time before walking away, trying to stop the shaking in his hands.

“Brother, are you okay?” Ran asked when she tried to hold Makoto’s hand, her usual high-pitched voice lowering with concern. She had noticed Makoto’s hand was trembling.

Makoto smiled at her. “Of course.” He breathed in deep, before exhaling audibly. They walked together again.

“Ningyos are scary,” Ren said, who was holding Makoto’s left hand. He stopped shaking by now.

“I think they’re pretty.” Ran peeked from Makoto’s leg to stare at Ren.

“You’re not scared because they won’t try to drown you because you’re a girl!”

“Well, there are boy ningyos, too, I’m sure of it!”

“Can we stop talking about this… ningyo _thing_. It’s creeping me out.”

It was a bit warmer when Makoto brought the twins to temple school. Ren made him buy a top for him, to respond to Ran’s hand ball. And Makoto didn’t know how he could tell his mother about their impractical expenditures. By sunrise, Makoto left the twins at the temple, which was right next to the famous gemsmith’s house.

His short journey back home didn’t help in ceasing Makoto’s thoughts about the ningyo. He wondered if they were real, wondered if they truly swam the waters that the fisherfolks would sail in. Were they clueless or were they just playing clueless of the fact that human couldn’t live underwater?

Makoto decided to stop by the old wharf to see what the fisherfolks were doing. And maybe talk to some about the mythical creature he had been imagining all day. Though he was afraid, he was just as curious. Most of the fishing vessels were old but sturdy, and had distinctive craftsmanship. The hulls of the ships were evidently weather-stained by both the seasonal typhoons and the stillness of the ocean. Masts remained dark and dirty, but still operated like they were new.

It didn’t take long for Makoto to spot the tall figure of his father amongst a crowd of fisherfolks, gathering on one of the ship decks. His father spotted him also, and beckoned him to climb aboard the ship for a little talk. It took some courage for Makoto to cross the brittle wood bridge that connected the dock to the ship.

The helmsman greeted him first then some other seamen until he steered his way through his father.

“Makoto, why don’t you sail with us?”

Simply standing on the uneven blocks of wood beneath his feet was enough to give him a panic attack. Gritting his teeth, he tried to talk without looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’ll pass,” Makoto said with a forced smile and pitched himself toward the safest spot on the deck.

“What brings you to the dock, boy?” the man standing next to Makoto’s father asked with a grin. Makoto turned to the man. He was a Matsuoka, a family of pearl merchants. He was also the father of his childhood friend, Rin, so Makoto knew him well.

“I wanted to ask about ningyos,” Makoto asked in a hollow tone, mostly due to the fact that he was nervous being on a ship.

Matsuoka eyed him inquiringly. “All you need to know about those things is that they are foul, foul creatures waiting for a prey to catch.”

“Some of the men say they’ve seen one. They’re desperate to catch one. But of all the years I’ve been fishing, no one had ever caught a ningyo. I’m starting to think they’re not real,” Makoto’s father said, shifting his eyeglasses a bit.

“They’re real! My grandfather and his men caught one before!” said one of the fishermen who had heard them and butted in.

Another seaman said, “You mean ningyos? They say they’re beautiful and their singing lures men underwater.”

“Are you kidding? They’re ugly as hell! They look like monkeys bred with a carp!”

“My great uncle caught one before but it got away, said ningyos _did_ look like monkeys, not beautiful women.”

“It’s said that drinking their blood will make you immortal.”

“Don’t they drown men? I heard before that they hate us humans because we have legs.”

“Some say that if you hear their voices underwater, you’ll immediately go after it and drown.”

“Can’t they talk? Ningyos screech so loud you’ll end up deaf!”

Makoto, alarmed by the sudden outbursts of opinion from the fisherfolks, didn’t notice soon enough that the wooden platform serving as his only exit from the ship was already removed.

Green eyes had never been so wide before. While the fishermen were bickering on the deck, Makoto rushed to the side of the ship and realized that the boat was moving.

“No way…” Makoto muttered to himself as he watched the dock gradually vanishing from his sight. “No, no, no, no…” He chanted as he ran to his father.

“Makoto? You’re still here?” his father asked in worry. Makoto was breathing heavily now. He could feel his heartbeat quicken and his eyes blurring. His father quickly grabbed his shoulders and helped him get inside the cabins.

Makoto could hear the ocean. It was so close. It was so close he couldn’t handle it. The waves were like loud eruptions in his ear every time they would waver and bellow.

“Are you okay? Do you want to stay here? Or in the deckhouse?” His father asked out of concern. His son was slowly reaching his limit.

Feeling nauseous, Makoto shook his head. He didn’t want to get in the way of his father’s work. “Dad, I’m fine. You should go back to the deck.”

“You sure?”

He nodded his head. “I’ll stay here. I can’t see the ocean from here.”

But he could hear it.

“If you need something, just ask one of the men here, okay?”

The minute his father left, Makoto dropped to the ground, sucking in short intakes of breath, almost to the point of hyperventilating. Even if he was on a ship, it still felt like he was stranded in the middle of the ocean—stranded, stranded, _stranded_ …

Makoto was unsure of what actually made him so afraid. It wasn’t really the water, rather, it was the mysteriousness of it. Thousands and thousands of feet of nothing but darkness and water and silence. No one could hear him scream. No one but the open vastness of _nothing_. He couldn’t imagine swimming in it, thinking of the possibilities that some _thing_ will grab his foot and pull him down from the surface, that some _thing_ will bite into his limbs and eat him. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly. He attempted to stop picturing every terrifying likelihoods of him drowning or being eaten.

The ship swayed ruggedly as Makoto staggered toward a cot on the edge of the room. And very soon he fell in an abysmal deep sleep, unaware of the approaching typhoon that was about to turn his life around.


	2. Chapter 2

When Makoto was five, he used to look forward to waking up in the morning, playing by the seashore with the other kids. It used to be empty back then. The coastal fishing harbor was still a modest little dock by the edge of the sea, constructed merely with delicate wood that was trashed by the woodcutters as rejects. The docks and piers were made by two brothers who thought it was a good idea to create an area where fisherfolk would gather and trade.

After a few short years, the dock transformed into a large fishing port. The marketplace was built and suddenly the coast became a bustling village. Large-scale fishing vessels became common. He could even remember the first time his father bought a gillnet for catching crabs.

He didn’t know when he started fearing the ocean. As a kid, he first thought the horizon where the sky and sea would meet was the edge of the world. That it ended there. He thought the ocean was shallow, that there was nothing but crabs and tuna underneath all the blue. Then he grew up, and soon realized the horizon wasn’t the end, and that it further accentuated the eternal aspect of the ocean.

Makoto was ten when he first rode a fishing boat. It was the small kind, where only three men and one setnet could fit. They didn’t sail very far, and Makoto could still see Iwatobi from afar. But all he remembered was the he cried, because he was scared, and that he needed to go back to land. Being surrounded by so much water caused Makoto to have a mild panic attack. His father had to rush back to the docks. That was when he started thinking that the waters weren’t safe. And nothing could convince him otherwise.

“Makoto!”

In between the predatory silence, he heard his name being called, a frantic voice bellowed with the ghastly winds of the arresting storm. Makoto heard it, his senses all focused on one thing—hearing. They say the ocean floor was blue, but he had no intentions of finding out if it was true, keeping his eyes shut even when he was conscious. Swinging his arms in panic, Makoto felt it was useless, his body being pulled down by the sea. Carnivorous riptides ate his body immediately after the fishing vessel tipped to its side.

He was drowning.

He couldn’t breathe, the vast waters constricting him. He needed to breathe and go to the surface. But when he opened his reddened eyes, he saw nothing—an empty space of _nothing_. A realm of abyssal plain and silence. Even though the waves thrashed violently from the surface, beneath it was the opposite. He could barely hear the storm, barely hear anything.

And he was scared to death.

Makoto screamed out loud, but there was no sound, stealing what little oxygen was left inside him and swung his arms and legs in attempt to reel away from the depths of the ocean. He felt a stinging pain in his stomach. Somehow, he still felt as if he didn’t move. The surface seemed so far away, and he wasn’t getting any closer.

He needed to _breathe_.

And he realized soon after that his flailing had stopped.

That he was sinking.

That his lungs no longer had oxygen to spare.

Instead of air, Makoto had no choice but to inhale water. In the midst of unconsciousness, he felt it incinerate his throat. Despite the icy cold water, he could only feel a burning sensation inside of him.

Then he just let himself sink.

He let himself get slowly devoured by the water. And in some way, it made him feel at ease. He felt entirely at peace. He could see the surface as his heavy body descended.

Makoto didn’t know if he was hallucinating, but before he could shut down completely, he felt a sensation in his skin, like a hand, caressing his cheek. His eyes were closing when he saw another pair of eyes in front of him, strings and ribbons of silk flowing in the background.

Finally, every inch of his consciousness faded away.

* * *

The waves were singing at their usual peaceful pace when Makoto woke up.

His first thought was, _“Am I dead?”_

The uncomfortable bed he laid on convinced him that he wasn’t, that he was still alive somehow. His lips were dried and had hurt when he tried to close it, seeing as his mouth was left ajar all this time he had been laying there.

_“Laying where?”_

Pebbles, shells, and broken corals pierced his back as he tried to lift his arms. He wanted to cover his face from the blinding sunlight. Even with eyes closed, the light was still blinding.

Makoto opened his green eyes.

He groaned as he hoisted his upper body up with his elbows, which felt numb as he pushed it against the coral sands, leaving sunken marks on his skin.

“ _Where am I…?”_ Makoto asked himself, noticing the absence of Iwatobi’s fine white sands. The shore back home was soft and supple to the touch. But the sand here was different.

Surprised that he was still alive, Makoto let his senses kick in. He looked down. There was a red patch on his kimono. It made him panic all of a sudden, thinking he was hurt and gushing out blood, but when he checked, there was nothing. It felt strange somehow. Because he knew he hit something on that boat before he drowned.

Right, he drowned.

It took several more seconds for Makoto to take it all in. He remembered drowning. All of it. He even remembered the vivid blue eyes that he saw underwater. They were glowing somehow, the eyes. Thinking about it, he himself couldn’t believe it. He swore he saw a tail—a big one, along with beautiful ribbons of translucence appended to it.

It wasn’t human, nor a sea creature, nor anything he had ever seen in his life. Makoto was on the brink of dying during that time, but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t think the ningyo he had seen was _beautiful_.

“It saved me…” Makoto breathed out in disbelief. He was sprouting nonsense. Maybe he hit his head on a rock or something. There was no other explanation. He was _sinking_. He should be dead by now. But there he was lying on the sand on some unknown cove with no injuries whatsoever, like he had just woken up from a nap.

He stood up and realized he felt perfectly fine. Nothing was hurting, or aching, or anything. It seemed like he hadn’t drowned at all.

Makoto finally gave the surroundings some attention. In front of him was a wide shore constricted by ragged landforms. The shore formed a crescent moon shape, creating a cove of teal and green.

Placing a hand over to his stomach where an injury was supposed to be, Makoto ran towards the shore. He stopped when his feet touched the water, panting as he shouted towards the sea.

“Thank you!” He yelled from the top of his lungs, hands on the sides of his mouth to amplify his words. Softer this time, Makoto repeated, “Thank you for saving me.”

He waited for a minute, but there wasn’t any movement in the waters. Letting out a sigh, he turned away dejectedly. Who was he kidding? Ningyos weren’t real. And just because his wound magically healed didn’t mean ningyos were the culprit.

Just then, along with the calm melodies of the sea, he heard a loud splash behind him. Makoto twirled in a hurry and jogged further into the beach. He heard it. He definitely heard it. Something jumped out of the water.

His knees reached the ocean. And he waited—longer than before. But again nothing came up. Makoto breathed in before sighing audibly. He scanned the ocean again with desperate eyes. “Did I miss it?”

Just when he thought he did, he saw a flicker of light from afar, the sun reflecting on something pearlescent. Even though he almost drowned last night, Makoto’s fear of the ocean seemed non-existent, as he splashed through the turquoise waters.

Makoto was waist-deep into the ocean when he saw a figure swim right past him.

“Wait!” Makoto pleaded. It was so fast it came almost as a blur. He decided to stop moving so the water would calm. When it was clear enough for him to see beneath him, Makoto’s eyes widened in awe.

Someone was circling him from below. And Makoto was frozen to the spot. Somehow he wasn’t scared. There was some sort of security in that cove.

Makoto watched as a head of dark locks emerged from the water. He looked at the creature like magic. He was surprised. The stories were all wrong. They didn’t have head like monkeys, or sharp teeth, or scaly faces. Now he knew for sure, that ningyos were breathtakingly _beautiful_.

Blue eyes stared at him curiously, as if he was the strange one.

Makoto was at loss for words. He just felt so mesmerized that he considered himself already under the spell of the ningyo’s so-called magic. And maybe he didn’t care that he was under a spell.

Even though the ningyo was male, he couldn’t help his heart beating faster. It might be out of nervousness or wonder. But he couldn’t deny he was somehow drawn to this fabled creature.

“Um…” Makoto started. He couldn’t find the words to say. The ningyo just blinked at him. And he appreciated that the creature was nice enough to wait for him to continue. “T-Thank you… I—”

Then, the tailed young man jumped at him and grabbed his shoulders, causing him to lose his balance and fall underwater. Makoto frantically went back up the surface and looked around.

The ningyo was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating this. It's a little challenging to write as I've never done something like this before. I have everything figured out but it's so hard to put into words! Know what I'm saying? Anyway, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay, I know this AU has been done numerous times in this fandom but I'm going to do something a little different as the plot thickens (oooOhhhh). It won't be too lengthy. Hopefully less than ten chapters. I've written this two months ago actually, just never had the nerve to finish it ;_;
> 
> Also, it's 1869.
> 
> Inspired by Shallows by Daughter


End file.
